


Into the Breach

by writewithurheart



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/M, Gen, Jaegers (Pacific Rim), M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: Or: How to save the world inside a tin canHumanity is under attack from alien monsters known as Kaiju. The only thing that stands in their way are piloted robots known as Jaegers. As the war against the Kaiju continues, finding two pilots able to work in tandem is becoming troublesome. To help create the perfect team Nick Fury pulls in a washed up old pilot in the hopes that they won't just fight the Kaiju, but stop them permanently by sealing the breach between their worlds.A Pacific Rim AU





	1. Chapter 1

The Kaiju wall stretches for miles across the coast of the United States. It’s dirty, gritty, and far from the pretty hope they were promised. The higher ups said they needed more protection, that Drift-compatible pilots were rare and fading fast. Hundred of men and women labored on the walls, constantly covered in grease and ash.

It was tiring, weary work. The kind that made you fall into bed at the end of a hard day, unable to move. The laborers were here because they didn’t have any other choice.  

Steve is the same. He has nowhere else to be. Home was destroyed long ago in that first brutal attack and he’s been fighting ever since. But this wall…

He hates it. It feels like failure, which is why it’s appropriate, of course. Steve fires up his blowtorch again and holds it to the metal plates. He’s here, paying penance. He failed and this is the consequence. The Captain America had been the best of its class of Jaeger, and then he lost it.

“Looks like they’re keeping you busy here.” 

It’s been years, but Steve knows that voice. It screamed at him to fall in line, called the shots from HQ, hounded him for giving up. He doesn’t look over as his propane runs out, just switches to another canister as he asks: “You with the mission, sir?” 

“We need your help, Captain.” 

Steve twists the torch further than he needs to, jamming it together. “I’m of no use to you, Director. Fried, the tech said. Not suitable for Drift.” 

“You lost your girl, Cap, mid-drift, hard to recover from.” 

He doesn’t need to be told that. He flips on the torch again and a file lands on the steel beam beside his leg. He glances at it, betrayed by his own curiosity. Fury is playing with him and they both know it. Steve always was too damn heroic. Bucky always told him that. 

“We need you, Cap. Kaiju are getting stronger. We need pilots to match.” 

“Not a pilot anymore, Fury.” 

“You were the best of the best.” 

He holds the torch to the metal of the wall, melting and fusing the metal together. He is not going to give in. This had been his fight, his and Peggy’s. And then that Kaiju ripped her from Jaeger.

“The techs want to bring Cap back.” 

Only his reflexes stop Steve from burning himself on the red-hot metal. He takes a couple deep breaths and clenches his jaw. “The Captain was decommissioned.” 

“I wasn’t talking about the Jaeger.” 

Steve clenches his jaw. He’s not fit for duty. He tried after Peggy, but no one else was Drift-compatible. He was just too broken. “Philips retired me himself, sir.” 

“My command. Not Philips.” 

“Listen, I don’t know the science - not my field - but apparently your Drift records contain something of note. They want your brain. I want your leadership. Need you to whip this latest batch of recruits into shape.” 

Steve picks up the folder and flicks it open. Some names are familiar, others are a mystery. “Why me?” 

“I’m creating a team. They need a leader.” 

Steve stares at the list, one name, more than any others grabbing his attention. There’s no way Fury could know the connection. A closer look reveals the hook Fury is baiting him with: this team is going after the Breach. 

Back with the Captain America, the Breach was theoretical: a point where the Kaiju had to be coming through. Peggy was ripped from the Captain when they made the decision to try to pursue the Kaiju back, to try to find the breach. Steve had to pilot alone, killing the Kaiju just so they could escape. 

Peggy had survived, but she was almost catatonic. Her memory escaped her and she could barely function. She was sent to a home, like an elderly person with dementia. Steve still visited her from time to time, but the truth was she didn’t know him anymore. 

Fulfilling this mission will be in honor of her, a credit to all the work Peggy did. 

And you can be damn sure Fury knows that. 

“Wheels up in twenty, Cap.” 

… 

“I can’t believe we’re going to meet  _ the _ Captain.” Darcy bounces on the balls of her feet in the middle of the lab. The neural relays connecting her to the small Jaeger mock-up draw tight as she moves forward in excitement. The machine mimics her movement as Jane Foster slowly pushes her back to prevent the machine from walking off the table. 

“I feel like I should be insulted. You weren’t this excited to meet me,” Tony Stark snarks as he fiddles with the schematic hologram. “How’s that look, short and stacked? Good for Robin Hood?” 

“If he’s Robin Hood, shouldn’t it be green?” Jane asks, poking at the display. 

“Nope. That would only feed his delusions of grandeur. The dude hangs out in air vents. Plus, he painted my robots pink.” Tony throws the plans on a larger screen. “And I heard the Captain hates ridiculously overpainted Jaegers.” 

“Wasn’t his painted red, white, and blue?” Darcy throws in. She’s dancing now, trying out the small-scale Jaeger’s reactions. “Question: if I can pilot this tiny Jaeger by myself, what’s the big deal about Drifting and Drift-compatibility? Cause this does not seem that hard.” 

“Well, doll, right now it’s just a bucket of bolts that you could just as easily control with your hand.” 

Darcy looks over her shoulder at the new arrivals to the lab. She grins and waves in tandem with the little bot. “So size does matter?” 

“You know it,” Clint Barton says, hopping up and poking at the robot before he spies the blueprints on the main screen. “Is that my new baby?”

James Buchanan Barnes, right on his heels, winks at Darcy and waves the robot’s arm. “See? There’s feedback to compensate for. One person can’t handle the mental toll with the full sized Jaeger. Only three people have ever managed solo and none of them have been right in the head since.” He frowns. “Flaw in the system.” He frowns. 

“You just got back,” Darcy observes, plucking the neural relays from her head. 

Bucky grimaces. “You can tell?” 

“Clint would have made the comeback even more suggestive. You guys are still sympathetic,” Darcy explains as she looks him over. “How are you feeling?” 

Bucky sighs. “I know why they’re sending us out together. We’re trained for long distance and I have the additional hand-to-hand training. He’s just better paired with Natasha.” 

They both glance over at where Clint and Tony are going back and forth on the  design. 

“But the bow is purely decorative. It does nothing. It shoots plasma bolts same as any cannon.” Tony is past exasperated. “The harpoons don’t even have to be fired like a bow.” 

“It’s cooler. I have more control. It’s about finesse.” 

Bucky sighs. “I need a new Drift-partner. We can’t keep up with this rotating trio. Stark, when will that thing be operational?” 

“When I say so, Mr. Robot,” Tony snaps. “How is that prosthetic treating you?” 

Bucky waves his hand. “Responds like a dream. The lighter metal is a godsend.” 

“Did it interfere with your Drift relay?” Stark demands, leaning forward and pushing Clint out of the way. “How did the Winter Soldier respond?” 

Darcy drops into a chair and slides away to pull up their run diagnostics. Commander Eyepatch doesn’t like her in the control room anymore after the pudding incident, not unless there’s a Category 5. She frowns at the reading. 

“You were distracted,” she observes. Only because she’s so familiar with the pilot’s information can she spot the change in their compatibility. “It through off your compatibility.” 

Bucky nods. “Natasha is more used to the draw it takes.” 

Darcy pulls up the trio’s compatibility records. Natasha pairs well with both Bucky and Clint. Clint used to partner with his brother, who was killed in a Kaiju attack six months ago. The Jaeger Marksman was crushed and both brothers were brought back with dire injuries. They hadn’t died while Drifting, but it still left its scars. 

The Russian Soldier had been the Jaeger to rescue the Marksman. Bucky and Natasha were part of the Russian Jaeger program. They were two of the toughest pilots out there. Both had prior partners who had been killed while Drifting. Natasha and Yelena Belova had piloted the Black Widow, one of the few female-driven Jaegers. Honestly, Darcy was in awe of her. 

Bucky Barnes was a whole other level of awesome. He survived the attack on Brooklyn, but lost his arm. He built his first prosthetic himself, with one hand, and applied that to Jaeger building. In the United States, he couldn’t pilot because he lost an arm. Bucky doesn’t like to talk about how he ended up in the Russian program, or really talk about the experience at all. Darcy has seen the Winter Soldier’s schematics and enough of Bucky’s personal designs to know he built it himself. His co-pilot, Brock Rumlow, died while they were drifting and Bucky piloted solo for an unprecedented fifteen minutes and suffered some brain damage as a result. 

That’s why Darcy thinks they’re all so compatible: shared life experience. 

“What are you thinking, doll?” Bucky asks, his arm sliding up hers. 

She looks away from the screen and glances over at Clint, Tony, and Jane, who are debating the new Jaeger schematics and back. “Your compatibility is getting worse, not better. You need another partner.” Exhaustion overwhelms his face and Darcy squeezes his hand. “You already knew that.” 

“Yeah. Nat and Fury know too. He wants me to look for one in the new recruits.”

“What do you think?” 

Bucky drops into the seat beside Darcy and stares at their intertwined fingers. “I think I’m tired. I’ve already had more partners than most pilots and my head’s a little damaged, sweetheart, you know that.” 

“Fury still wants you.” 

“Fury wants a lot of things. I don’t know if he gets the last of my sanity.” 

… 

Steve flips through his file on the quinjet even though he’s already read it through three times just so he can avoid conversation with the overexcited government agent sitting across from him. He introduced himself as Agent Phil Coulson and a huge fan of Captain America. 

This is why no one on the wall knew his history. The Captain America was everywhere. It was the propaganda machine for the United State Jaeger program as much as a fully functional war machine. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone that Peggy was British. They were happy to promote the groundbreaking technology, piloted by a man and a woman. They had fought for that right, had beat out hundreds of others, and against all odds, they had defeated some of the most powerful Kaiju to appear. 

Steve’s eyes are drawn back to the list of pilots Fury gave him, to the one name he knows: James Buchanan Barnes. 

_ Bucky _ . 

He thought he lost his best friend in the Attack on Brooklyn, in the panic of the first Kaiju attack. He had been skinny, sickly, unable to do more than race - wheezing - after his best friend as they raced for safety. Bucky had shoved him into an alcove, before he got swept away by the flailing limb of a giant monster. Steve got knocked out and in the chaotic aftermath, he hadn’t found hide nor hair of Bucky. 

Then after Peggy he’d stopped watching the Jaeger project. 

It could be someone else, but Stever definitely has never met another person with that mouthful of a name. 

The quinjet starts to lower, to his surprise. “We’re in New York already?” 

“Oh, no, Captain Rogers. We’re headed to San Francisco. We’re just making a pit stop to pick up Doctor Banner.” 

Steve glances down at his folder. “The Drift pioneer?” 

“Yes, sir.” Coulson doesn’t get the chance to expand on the answer before the door opens and a ruffled looking man stumbles onboard. 

“Doctor Banner,” Steve says, as polite as his mother taught him to be, God rest her soul. 

Banner blinks and stares at him in shock for a moment. “You’re...Steve Rogers.” 

“That’s right.” Steve shakes his hand with military precision. “I hear you’re the person trying to find the Breach.” 

“Is that all you heard?” 

“The only thing I care about,” Steve says honestly. “Agent Carter and I fought to have people take the Breach seriously and I’m glad to see that’s finally happening.” 

Banner won’t meet his eyes. His gaze keeps darting around the plane, obviously nervous. Steve had heard that when they first started with Drifting technology, a couple of the techs suffered some ill effects, but he’s also seen Peggy as mostly functional without all her mental capacities. He’s also worked with Howard Stark and he knows genius can be...odd. 

He hasn’t talked to Howard in years, but his younger brother, Anthony, is part of Fury’s team. Howard never spoke about Anthony except to complain about his annoying little brother. Tony Stark - as he liked to be known - had apparently created a new power source, safer for the pilots. The first Jaegers hadn’t cared so much, the survival of humanity at large being more important than a couple pilots. 

Gotta love that nuclear radiation. 

“What Jaegers are still in operation?” Steve asks, finally addressing Agent Coulson. 

“The Russian Soldier is running with a three-man crew, the Falcon, and Ironman. Stark is working on a new type of Jaeger: Hawkeye.” 

“I thought all the Russian Jaegers fell two years ago?” Steve frowns. 

“Black Widow and Winter Soldier were both torn apart in a Cat 5 attack. The two surviving pilots patched together Winter Soldier and made it to California. Barnes and Romanov were the last survivors of that unit. Barnes was originally turned down for active duty in the U.S. due to injuries sustained in a Kaiju attack. Romanov is Russian born. They’re our best active pilots, but they’re barely compatible. That’s part of the reason Fury wants you, Captain Rogers: you had a knack for finding Drift-compatible pilots. Your work with the Howling Commandos was phenomenal. We haven’t been able to replicate it.” 

Steve nods and looks back at his list. There are so many more questions to ask, like how Bucky ended up in Russia,  but he has new goals too. “You want me to find them more compatible partners? It’s unlikely. Who’s the third pilot on the Russian Soldier?” 

“Clint Barton. He piloted the Marksman with his brother. He’s compatible with both Romanov and Barnes, but they’re getting out of sync.” 

He opens their files as Coulson speaks. “All three?” 

“Barton and Romanov are...improving. Barnes...his injuries pose other complications. Fury’s brought in the new recruits in the hope that you can find them better matches.” 

“What about the Falcon?” 

“Wilson and Riley were in the same pararescue unit. Solid pairing. High compatibility.” 

“Ironman?” 

Coulson pauses and Steve looks up in surprise. “Tony Stark and James Rhodes. It’s the first incarnation of the Type III Jaeger. It uses and Arc Reactor power module. The palladium core has toxic properties so it’s the only one in circulation at present.” 

“Stark pilots? I thought he was tech?” 

“You’ll find a couple people do double duty. Stark and Barnes both work tech and pilot. We’re a little short on viable pilots.” 

He nods again and looks back at the file folder. It wasn’t strategic to have their best tech also in the field. There’s a potential for at least two additional teams. And that’s not counting if they have good pairs in the pool of recruits. “How many operational Jaegers without pilots?” 

“The Captain America has been fixed up, as well as the Hulk, if needed. Odin’s Fury was fried with lightning, but the pilots are currently feuding so that’s non-operational.” 

“I hate to tell you this, sir, but it sounds like quite the mess.” 

Coulson doesn’t argue. “We’re hoping you can turn that around, Captain.” 

Steve doesn’t have a response to that. They’re fighting against alien creatures with a dwindling amount of soldiers to fight back. He has a list of seasoned fighters, most of which are partnerless. He has to find pairs for everyone and train them. Then he has to help them strategize and close whatever breach is releasing these monsters into their world. 

The picture of the Captain America stares back at him from the glossy page, restored to all it’s former glory. The dents when the Kaiju punctured the Jaeger and almost killed Peggy are scars on the fresh paint job, and he’s surprisingly touched by the gesture. They didn’t erase anything. 

He is way out of his depth here, going back to a world of war and death. He’s as likely to fail as succeed, but it’s time for him to step back up again, to be the shield that protects the rest of humanity. He wants to stay as much as he wants to run away. 

The quinjet lands again and it’s too late for him to change his mind as Coulson says those two damning words: 

“We’re here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The singular quinjet that lands in the hanger isn’t impressive. Of all the dramatic entrances he’s ever seen, Bucky wouldn’t even place this in the top ten, yet almost the entire base has found a reason to wander the hanger just to see it arrive with its impressive cargo. 

Between the techs excited and terrified to meet Doctor Bruce Banner and the soldiers excited and terrified to meet the legendary Steve Rogers, it looks like the entire base has found a reason to linger in the hanger this morning. Foster and Stark are waiting close, both ready and eager to speak to Banner. Darcy has a camera out to film everything “for posterity” because the great Captain Rogers hasn’t been seen on a Jaeger base since the prognosis was released for Agent Margaret Carter. 

Bucky has tucked himself into a corner, back in the shadows of the Russian Soldier, where he can see and not be seen. His metal hand works to clench and unclench as he waits for the jet to open and the figures emerge. 

“Thought I’d find you sulking, Yasha.” 

“Natalia.” 

They watch in silence as Clint parades the new recruits into line to greet their guests. They line up like the good soldiers they are and Bucky shakes his head at the ridiculousness of this charade. The Steve Rogers he knew was always more heart than military rigidity, but then, the Steve Rogers he knew was a sickly scrap who barely survived boot camp before their first tour and the subsequent Kaiju attack. 

Not that Bucky was the same person anymore either. 

“He’s gonna want to see you, you know?” 

He was too well trained in Russia to startle, but his eyes to dart to Natasha as shock reverberates through him. A moment later the shock is gone. He forgot in all the obsessing about his past, but he and Natasha Drifted constantly. She’s seen his most intense memories. Of course, she knows Steve. She knows how Bucky struggled after the Attack on Brooklyn, how he fought to find his best friend again, and how it brought him to the horror that was Arnim Zola. She knows how he sold his soul for an arm and a chance to pilot a Jaeger. 

The U.S. Army didn’t want back their damaged sniper, but Russia made use of him for the cost of the best parts of him. There’s a reason why pilots like Rogers are idolized and pilots like him and Natasha are shunned: Rogers kept his humanity, despite impossible odds. He was all heart, just like that scrapper from Brooklyn. 

Bucky knows he’s just being a coward. He doesn’t want to face the disappointment in those blue, blue eyes. Or worse, the possibility that Rogers won’t even recognize him, that Russia took so much of him that Bucky no longer exists. 

He’d fought hard to reclaim that part of him when he and Natasha got to the States, but some days it still felt like the best of him was buried in the ruins of Brooklyn. 

“Come on,  _ soldat _ , let’s fall in line.” 

He follows her over to the cluster of Riley, Wilson, and Rhodes in time to hear: “You think he’s really as good as they say?” 

Bucky doesn’t know Riley that well, certainly not well-enough to know if Riley is his first or last name, but he does know Steve Rogers. He rolls his eyes at the comment and Natasha smirks. 

“I met him once,” Rhodey whispers, leaning closer as figures finally start to emerge from the jet, as if they could be heard from halfway across the tarmac. “Him and Carter visited Echo Base once to check out one of Tony’s Jaegers. Tony had a huge blow up with his brother and hit for the whole time they were on base. Rogers was actually the one to suggest we were Drift-compatible. Saw a video of us snarking. No one thought about putting Tony in a bot before that.” 

“And they’ve regretted it ever since,” Natasha says. Riley and Wilson both jump at her voice. There’s a muttered curse or three, something about ‘god-damn Russians’ before Fury shoots them a stink eye. 

Bucky straightens, meeting Natasha’s eyes as Fury approaches with Coulson, Rogers, and Banner. This is it. The moment of truth. 

“Captain Rogers, allow me to introduce the sad sacks of shit you’ll be whipping into shape. Colonel Rhodes of the Ironman, Paratroopers Riley and Wilson of the Falcon, and Agent Romanov and Sergeant Barnes of the Russian Soldier.” 

“Captain.” Riley, Wilson, and Rhodey all salute like good American soldiers. After a beat, Bucky follows suit with his own lazy attempt. Steve stares, all wide eyes and hope, like he never even tarnished his halo while fighting a war. Nevermind that apparently fighting finally allowed his muscle mass to catch up with his height and he now looks like all those propaganda posters. 

“I trust Coulson has already briefed you.” 

Steve has to shake himself to stop staring and fall back into line behind Fury as he continues to trailblaze a path through the more-cluttered-than-necessary hangar. As the metal doors swing shut behind them, Maria Hill finally yells: “Look lively before I find something for you slugs to do.” 

Threat delivered, the crews break up fast, quickly finding themselves something to do before Hill can make good on her threat. 

“Pilots! Recruits!” Hill calls again to grab their attention. “Rogers wants you in the training room. Oh Five Hundred. Preliminary testing. No excuses.” 

Bucky stands right where he is as people flow around him, until the only one left in hangar are him, Natalia, and Wilson. He ignores the other two and heads for the Russian Soldier. He knows they’re exchanging glances behind his back. Sam’s been trying to get him to talk. 

He reaches the jaeger and pulls himself up the ladder alongside it so he can start to fiddle with some of the weaponry. The Soldier is an outdated hunk of junk that wouldn’t be operational in any other world except that there’s not another machine Fury wants them operating, not until they’ve gone through whatever boot camp Rogers is here for. Until then, Bucky’s going to make sure it stays operational. 

“Wanna talk about it, Barnes?” Sam asks from the ground. 

“Fuck off.” 

“You never told me you know the Cap. I thought we were friends.” 

Bucky sighs and tightens another bolt. “There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you, Birdbrain.” He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t talk about life before the war. Natasha and Clint have been in his head, which is more than he ever wants. He shared brain space with Brock Rumlow, who was as monstrous as a human could be, and he hates that those memories might bleed over to Clint. Clint is good people. 

Natasha saw the darkest parts of the Russian Jaeger project before they ever Drifted. He didn’t contaminate her, and he knows she struggles with sharing that darkness with Clint too. Sam wants him to talk about it, but Bucky doesn’t need yet another person who will only see the darkness. 

“Well, I’m here when you’re ready to talk.” 

The offer is too genuine for Bucky to mock it, so he just nods, not sure if Sam can see the movement, but he does hear the man walk away. He knows Natalia lingers even as he pushes that knowledge away to work on the maintenance and upkeep of the junkpile in front of him. 

“You will need to talk to him.” 

She’s closer now, standing on walkway to the cockpit instead of on the floor. Bucky looks down at his greased-stained hands and realizes he doesn’t actually know how much time has passed. 

“Sam?” 

“Steve Rogers. Tall, blonde, and handsome. Promotor of all things American.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and swings off the top of the Jaeger to land beside Natasha. “I will.” 

She scowls and pokes him the chest. “Do. Or I’ll make your life hell.” 

… 

The base was a bunker, built to withstand the rage of a Kaiju as it held the line and protected the rest of humanity. Steve had served in one just like it back in New York and DC. No matter how many twists and turns this base, which Fury called the Triscelion, was familiar. Different faces, but the rest was pretty much the same. 

He was quickly introduced to a long list of people either by military rank, “agent”, or doctor. He could vaguely remember faces and pair them with a vague sense of a name. If he hadn’t seen Buck in the hangar, he’d probably be better at this. As it is, all Steve can see is Bucky’s face, worn and weary, nervous. 

The man introduced as Sergaent Barnes had been intimately familiar and strangely alien. The lazy salute, the emotion in his icy eyes: those things were pure Bucky. The stiff, vigilant stance, the hagrid appearance...those were new. They spoke of a hundred battles, of stories and scars Steve didn’t know yet. 

He wanted to hunt Bucky down and spend hours talking. He had thought Bucky dead for  _ years _ . If he was any less than the illustrious pilot of Captain America, he would have done just that. All the press junkets and propaganda had drilled that out of him. Fury wanted to use him - to inspire, to lead, to be a guinnea pig - and so he would play the part, until he could sneak of later to find Bucky in private. 

“And here is the tech division, led by Anthony Stark.” 

“Tony,” the man corrects Fury. He doesn’t shake Steve’s proffered hand, just bats it out of the way. “Pilot of the Ironman, resident genius, billionaire, philanthropist. Heard you worked with my brother, compare me to him and no one will find your body.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow at Fury’s exasperated sigh. Tony is taller than Howard. They have the same spiky black hair and air of eccentric genius. He’s used to being the smartest person in the room and used to getting his way. He’s a lot like Howard, but Steve’s not going to touch that with a ten foot pole. 

“I hear your team is the one looking for the Breach,” he says instead. 

“Right.” Tony gestures with the parts he’s fiddling with behind him. “Not my specialty. You’ll be working with Foster and Banner. I run...everything else. They’re the biology and wormhole - ‘Breach’ - gurus. I was against this, by the way. No need to resurrect a fossil for this gambit. What kind of rock did they find you under anyway?” 

“Ignore the tin man. He’s still getting used to having a heart.” A short but forceful brunette shoves him out of the way and holds her hand out to Steve. “Darcy Lewis, intern.” 

“Pain in my ass,” Fury corrects. “Lewis, here, was Foster’s intern when she started investigating the Breach. She’s a menace with the computers. She’s banned from the control room.” 

Darcy grins. “You know I’m a gem, Commander Eyepatch.” She winks at Steve. “Is it true Peggy Carter decked a man on her first day in boot camp?” 

The question gives him pause. He opens his mouth in surprise and then chuckles at the memory. “Actually, she was our CO at the first pilot program. One of the men disrespected her. It didn’t happen again.” 

“Badass.” Darcy whispers reverently. “She’s my favorite for a reason.” 

Steve’s smile falters. “She was mine too.” 

“Is,” Darcy corrects gently. “She might not be all the way there anymore, but she’s still stronger than anyone I know.” 

His heart stops in his chest. “You know Peg?” 

“She’s was my neighbor growing up. Taught me everything I know about Drifting.” Her grin reappears. “And how to throw a proper punch.” 

Steve recalls a memory of two younger girls, one with blonde curls and one with brown., standing before a punching bag and the sensation of fists hitting the solid foam. “I remember that.” 

Darcy blinks back a tear. “We tried to reach out to you, after everything, but you kind of disappeared off the face of the Earth.” 

Steve doesn’t know how to respond. “I...I didn’t think anyone would be looking for me.” He thought everyone who cared was dead. 

Darcy looks him over for a moment before she bounces back on the balls of her feet again. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” 

Unsure about how much time he has before Fury introduces him to another slew of soldiers, Steve glances at the commander. Fury is talking to someone he vaguely recognizes as Hill. Coulson steps forward. 

“We’ll leave you here, Captain. Have Miss Lewis page command when you’re ready to be taken to your quarters.” 

“You got it, Son of Coul,” Darcy announces with a thumbs up. “Let’s go, Cap.”

Steve nods and follows the curvy brunette further into the labs. To his left, Stark is hard at work on Jaeger schematics. Banner putters around in another corner. It looks like he’s making tea. The lab, all in all, looks much like the hangar he arrived in. The far end has scaffolding arranged around a sparse metal frame that might one day turn into a Jaeger, but looks more like a stick figure drawing. 

“That will eventually be Hawkeye. Tony’s stalling because he’s a perfectionist. He’s crafting it for Clint and Natasha.” 

“Romanov?” Steve asks to clarify. 

“Yup.” 

“I thought she was partnered with Barnes.” 

Darcy purses her lip. “Their compatibility is above average. Honestly, the Russian Soldier is poetry with both of them.” 

Steve stops walking, curious at the hesitance in her voice. “But?” 

“But,” Darcy agrees. “I don’t know how much you know about the Russian Jaeger program.” 

“Not much.” Steve feels like he’s admitting a flaw. “I know they had an impressive program, but they were always shady when it came to sharing it.” 

“The Russians pushed ethical boundaries. They had some of the toughest pilots because their program created them. They didn’t look for natural Drift-compatibility the way the US does. Tash and Buck can drift because they were trained for it. They left the Russian program because they weren’t interested in continuing with the Russians. And then there’s this.” 

Steve steps forward as Darcy pulls up a brain scan on the computer screen. He frowns at the scan. “That’s…” 

“The training enabled the Russian pilots to pilot solo for longer than we’ve ever seen, but it had disastrous side-effects.” 

Brain-damage. The scan is scattered with gray areas. “How long?” 

“Almost twenty minutes.” 

Steve freezes. “And they can still pilot?” 

Darcy shrugs. “He can. It takes more when he pilots with Clint and they’re compatibility is slipping.” She pulls up more records of recent Drifts. “Fury’s hoping you can find him a better partner, but that’s not why I dragged you all the way down here. There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

His eyes linger on the screen and the scans, wondering what happened to his best friend before he gets dragged over to the far end of the lab full of duct taped equipment and a teeny, tiny woman whose desk was utterly covered in post-it notes. 

“Steve Rogers, meet Doctor Jane Foster, the woman who discovered the Br-” 

“Darcy, have you seen my notes on the quantum manipulator?” 

Several post-its and bits of paper, all covered in writing, flutter to the ground as Doctor Foster sifts through the papers on her desk. Only Darcy’s quick movement prevents a food tray from upending what appears to be half a sandwich with the insides picked out. Then, with the ease of practice, Darcy Lewis reaches into the foreboding mass of shifting paper and pulls out a bright green length of post-it notes. 

“Here. I already inputted them into JARVIS. It’s on Tony’s list.” The doctor reaches for the paper, but Darcy pulls it away. “Now, before you get sucked back into your own world, there’s someone you want to meet: Captain Steve Rogers. Captain Rogers, Doctor Jane Foster.” 

“Pleasure, ma’am.” 

She blinks at him in surprise even as she shakes his hand. She’s petite and skinny, but her grip is strong and Steve can recognize the steel under her gaze. “Please, call me Jane.” 

“Steve,” he agrees with a smile. “So you found the Breach?” 

Jane snots. “Well, maybe not so much find as stumbled across.” Behind her Darcy shakes her head and taps her temple. Jane turns to follow his gaze and Darcy shrugs innocently, eating a piece of cheese off the sandwich. “We always assumed these creatures came from the ocean. Thousands of biologists, chemists, and physicists working to figure out what they were and how to stop them. But I spent years trying to create and Einstein-Rosen bridge-” 

“Which is a really fancy word for a portal from one place to another,” Darcy chimes in. 

Jane sighs. “It’s so much more than that, but yes. Anyway, my readings were picking up spikes in energy right before each Kaiju attack, but they went way further back than any recorded attack, all underwater. Some appeared on land, some in water, all monumentally smaller than the Breach we now know opens in the Marianna’s Trench. 

“So while all my colleagues were searching the ocean floor, I found record that these creatures have been here before. They chose the Trench for the Breach because they have better access than us, they survive longer, but by studying their trail back, I was able to figure out how they got here and how to pinpoint the Breach. We’re now working on a way to close it again.” 

Steve frowns at the picture Doctor Foster paints, her hands moving and waving as she pulls up pieces of paper for evidence, not that he has time to read them before she discards them again. “So you can tell where they’re coming through. Can you tell when?” 

Darcy’s grin turns wolfish. “She said you were a sharp one, Captain.” She turns to the room. “JARVIS pull up Operation Tartarus.” 

“Right away, Miss Lewis.” 

Steve looks around for the British voice. He can’t find a source, but a table to his left lights up and a hologram rises from the surface. Darcy brushes past him as she leads him to the table, Jane trailing behind. 

“JARVIS is Stark’s AI. And this is our early warning system. I call it Cerberus.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow: “Fan of Greek Mythology?” 

Jane snorts. “Nope. Fury’s people named it. The other names were too nerdy.” She shakes her head. There’s a crash from the other end of the lab and a shouted ‘FOSTER!’. “I’ll be back. Darcy,” she gestures wildly. 

The intern salutes. “Got it, boss lady.” 

The techs here are just as scatterbrained as Steve remembers Howard being. Not that he’ll tell Tony that. He twists the hologram to get a better look and zooms out. It’s impressive.

“I would have called it Sauron,” Darcy says, circling the table to stand across from him, “but we’re more Fellowship. I mean, we’ve already got Legolas, Grimly and Gandalf. Or the Three-eyed Raven, but apparently the Game of Thrones references were too morbid.” Darcy gestures to a canal. “Most of our bogeys come from the trench and then head to the nearest land. Ever since we’ve enacted Tartarus, we have a better reaction time. Now we’re just need the Jaegers pilots.” 

“Which is where I come in?” Steve guesses, staring at the computer display. 

“Keep the Jaegers going long enough for us to figure out how to close the Breach, permanently.” 

Steve nods. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Crashes sound from the other side of the room, followed by a “I didn’t do it!”. Darcy groans. “That sounds like my cue. I’ll call Coulson-” 

_ BREACH OPEN. BREACH OPEN. _

“Well, shit.” 

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it!! Un-beta'd. If you're interested in beta-ing, let me know because I have no idea what i'm going in this fandom. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_ BREACH OPEN. BREACH OPEN.  _

Red lights flash and alarms start to sound as Darcy starts to pull up the sensor schematics and Jaeger diagnostics. Darcy pulls up the map again, a blinking red dot in the trench. If she’s good - and she knows she is - then those bogeys are about to be headed their way. Darcy glances at the Captain watching her screens with sharp eyes. “Think you can find your own way to Command?” 

He doesn’t answer before she immerses herself in the screens again, pulling up hologram screen after hologram screen on the tables around her. She loses track of him as Jane races over. Two bogeys emerge from the breach as a figure bursts into the room.

“Talk to me, Doll.” 

“Two flying monkeys, Dorothy, and they’re headed to straight to Munchkin Land. You playing the Wizard today?” She zooms in on the bogeys.

“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” Bucky replies dutifully as his hand lands on the small of her back. He glances over at Steve and his hand falls away. Darcy doesn’t have time to question that now, but it’s coming up later.

“JARVIS, can you relay that to Commander Eyepatch?” 

“Certainly Miss Lewis.” 

She glances between Bucky and Captain Rogers. “You two good?” 

“Fine,” Bucky answers his hand coming back to the small of her back and rubbing comforting circles. “What do you need?” 

“You on standby,” she says honestly. She points to the dots. “You see those Bogeys. Cat 4 and 5. Ironman, Falcon, and Russian Soldier are going to need all the help they can get.” 

“Can they handle it?” Captain Rogers asks, moving forward. 

Darcy chews her lip. “Maybe. Without suffering losses?” 

She lets the question hang in the air. They all know death is a reality in their world, and they know this threat is serious. She glances between Bucky and Captain Rogers again and chews her bottom lip. “The Captain America is operational.” 

“With no pilots,” Bucky says. “The recruits are too green.” 

“And Thor and Loki are out of sync,” she continues. “Loki is off-base. We might not have a choice.” 

“And who would you send out, huh, Glinda? A couple munchkins?” 

Darcy would send Captain Rogers and Bucky. She’s just not about to voice that because it’s just a small voice in the back of her head suggesting that it could work. She’s only seen them out of the corner of her eye and she can tell they’re having a hell of a conversation without speaking. They’re not ready. She gets that, but desperate times and all that. 

“We’re just going to have to hope that our boys are enough then. Bucky, get Cap to the bridge. You’ll do the whole squad more good from there.” 

“You sure, doll?” 

She nods absently to the question. Jane, Bruce and I can collect data here. Fury brought Cap in to advise, right? And you’ve got to tell Nat and Clint what you did to the soldier before they head out.” He frowns and she points at the grease smeared on the white of his shirt. “You missed a spot.” 

CAPTAIN ROGERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE BRIDGE.

Darcy has to wonder, yet again, if Maria Hill has some sort of low-level psychic ability because her announcements always managed to happen at the best times. Or maybe they were all Big Brother about the science labs because they were literally the home of mad scientists. Either way: both creepy and cool.

“Be careful,” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He grabs Captain Rogers by the arm and manhandles him out of the lab. 

Darcy sighs. They’re going to have to talk, because there was far too much silence in that conversation. Something’s going on with Bucky and Captain Rogers. She would call it fishy, but there’s too much in this lab that smells weird. No, if she had to guess, it has to do with Brooklyn and the friend that Bucky can’t talk about without getting sad around the eyes. 

It’s also a problem that has to be dealt with strictly in the later. Now, they are literally bigger fish to fry. 

She squares her shoulders and focuses back on her screens. An anomaly catches her eye and Darcy frowns, zooming in on the Breach. “Janey? Are you seeing this?” 

… 

The walk down the hall is tense. All around them people rush by with the military haste, somehow uniform and well-rehearsed. Steve feels the tension between them, pulled tight as a rubber band and wonders if it’s just him. 

“Buck-” 

“Stevie, we can talk later.” His voice is tight. Not hurt, but not exactly open either. 

“I was just going to say it’s good to see you. I thought you were dead.” To see his name ten years later is a shock. A good one. Peggy helped him work through the grief long ago, taught him how to cope with the loss and how to channel it into fighting the good fight. 

Bucky sighs. “We don’t have time for this now.” 

Steve’s jaw clenches. Right, of course. 

“We’re here.” Bucky yanks open the door and Steve is suddenly surrounded by the lovely, dulcet tones of Commander Fury. He loathes that his reunion is once again squashed in the face of military protocol. He’s never been a fan of the regulations of this life. In fact, he’s taken pride in flouting them from time to time. His instincts always took precedence. It would drive Philips wild, but the Commandos trusted him. 

“Trial by fire, Captain Rogers,” Fury calls. “This will be your operation soon enough.” 

Steve steps up so he can look out over all the screens and out the giant-reinforced window. “Do I want to know who had this job last?” 

“Romanov and Barnes. They trade off.” 

Steve glances at Bucky, who’s murmuring into a headset, his eyes fastened on a black, beat-up looking Jaeger that he takes to be the Russian Soldier. It’s odd how the machine reminds him of this new Bucky. Parts of it feel familiar. It’s just harder, more worn, than he remembers. His eyes skim over the other Jaegers to land on the Captain America. 

To look at her now, you would never know the damage she had sustained in her final fight. There are scars - phantom scratches - that weren’t covered up by the new, shiny, patriotic paint. Despite his annoyance at seeing they’d dragged her out of retirement, those scars felt like a memorial, a tribute to the great woman who lost her mind to protect humanity. 

“Steve?” 

He blinks, shocked to find Bucky next to him. Fury watches him, carefully, eyes sharp and calculating. Steve shakes it off and turns his attention back to the Jaegers. Each machine has a dedicated team to track their Drift and operational capabilities. 

“Status?” Bucky asks, voice authoritative as he takes the helm.

“Ironman is go. Drift at 89 percent,” a woman with ginger hair reports. 

“Falcon is go. Drift at 91 percent.” Maria Hill at the second station. She glances at Fury curiously but doesn’t comment beyond that.

“Russian Soldier is go. Drift at 92.” The man glances back at Bucky nervously. “And no Galaga.” 

Steve frowns but before he can address that statement, Fury speaks up: 

“Report from Tech?” 

Darcy’s voice crackles over a radio. “A Cat 4 and Cat 5. Standby for possible activity at the Breach.” 

Steve glances up as if looking at the speaker will convey his voice better. “More bogeys?” 

“Not yet. Unusual readings.” 

“Tell the commander I wouldn’t say no to tissue samples from that Cat 5,” comes another voice through the radio. 

“Heard that, Commander Eyepatch?” Darcy relays. 

Fury scowls. Bucky looks more annoyed than anything, which prompts Steve to speak up. He’s never been one to be silent when there’s an oversight. If Fury expects him to work here, he has a thing to make clear.

“Preserving life is priority, Doctor,” Steve cautions. His gaze holds Fury’s in a challenge. The man’s expression doesn’t change. He lifts an eyebrow and then faces forward again. Bucky nods at him.

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Darcy’s words have just a hint of amusement, as though she’s uttered them in reference to something else. “No mad scientists on my watch.” 

Steve’s lips twitch but he pushes down the smile and turns back to the command room at large. “What’s your usual mode of attack?” 

“Iron Man and Falcon are flight capable. Russian Soldier is both close combat and long range,” Bucky answers. “Ironman has the best weapons guidance. Both Riley and Wilson were pararescue. Barton and Romanov fill in the rest.” 

“That versatile?” They don’t have a heavy hitter in hand-to-hand or a back-up sniper. Captain America was the lead of the Commandos, the first one in and the last one out. It was the toughest Jaeger that took the most hits. There’s no point in this fleet, and there’s no rotation in the Jaegers. They have to be worn and tired. 

“That’s the way the Russians work.” 

There’s a story in there, one that Steve will get later. He can hear the hidden pain in Bucky’s statement. “So, brutally efficient. I thought Barton was trained Stateside.” 

“He did.” 

Another vague statement with no explanation. Steve steps up to the Russian Soldier’s screen and eyes the specs. It’s not equipped for brute force, but for stealth. Where the Captain America is flair and strength, the Soldier is stealth and agile. It’s been patched together and rearranged too much. One side is heavier than the other. It’s unbalanced, barely fit for duty. 

“Soldier, take point. Falcon call it from the sky. Ironman, try to take them out before they reach the drop-off. Aim for the Cat 4 first.” 

Steve watches the monitors. There’s grids with blinking indicators and camera feeds from the Jaegers, even a satellite feed. He wanders the room, watching the scenes play out. The Jaegers are lined up, waiting as the two bogeys - blinking red dots - approach the line. 

“Cat 4 on your left, Ironman. Cat 5 head on.” 

“We see ‘em,” Falcon reports. Steve doesn’t know them well enough to distinguish voices. He only knows because the icon lights up on a screen. “Three clicks out. Moving fast.” 

“Got ‘em.” 

Steve lets the chatter wash over him, watching the screens. The three Jaegers each have their own talents. They’re no well-oiled machine. There’s no field commander. Romanov can step in as needed, but Bucky is the one calling the shots. He’s not bad per se. The team itself is flawed. Ironman could be the heavy hitter with it’s flash and build, but the weapons system is purely long-range. The Falcon functions best with guerilla attacks. It dives in and out with a maneuverability that Steve has never witnessed before. The Soldier, which they’re using as a battering ram is clearly cobbled together to be whatever they need it to be.  One side of the Soldier has brute strength, wielded brutally by Romanov. The rest is agile and all about quick movements.

“Natalia, bring that arm up. We’ve got to get that Kaiju back,” Bucky shouts. “Falcon, as the Soldier falls back rain down fire on that thing.” 

As he watches, Bucky holds his arm at the shoulder, the same arm that is the powerhouse of the Russian Soldier. Steve narrows his eyes at the movement. Bucky notices and his fist clenches. It’s the clench that catches Steve’s attention because the arm he clutched, it’s not skin and bone. No, the hand is metal. He doesn’t know how he missed it before, careless of him. Steve looks away, forcing his attention back to the screens with the reminder that they’re going to talk all this out later. 

“Ironman, damage report.” 

“Superficial. Systems still operational.” Steve recognizes Stark’s voice. 

“Superficial? Tony, I’ve got less than 50 percent function.” Process of elimination: Rhodey. 

“More than enough to finish this fish off. Just focus on that Cat 5.” 

Steve frowns and moves back to the center of the room. That’s problematic. With so few Jaegers, they should be shoring up their defenses and not leaving one defenseless. Bucky moves around the room to look at the specs more carefully. 

“Falcon, divert to assist Ironman. Soldier, hold the line.” 

Steve watches the fight through the window. The Falcon swoops in just in time to cover as the Ironman is breached and falls. Chatter fills the room and Steve wanders over to the Ironman station, standing far enough back to be out of the way and still see what’s happening. It looks like the Kaiju managed to get some sort of spike  _ through _ Ironman and into the body. 

“Status, Ironman. Talk to me.” 

“Rhodey is hit! Rhodey!” 

“Stark!” Bucky shouts. 

There’s a groan. “Rhodey is alert,” Stark reports. “He’s going to need medical.” 

“Can you get the Jaeger back to base?” 

There’s muttered conversation and then a pained: “Yeah. We can do that.” 

“Alright, we’ll have medical waiting. Pepper, guide them in.” Ironman disappears off the board and the red-head starts talking to them. Her voice is calm and collected, even as her hands shake. Steve squeezes her shoulder and she bobs her head in his direction. 

“Falcon, we’re gonna need you on the ground to help the Russian Soldier.” Bucky commands. 

Steve moves to the center of the floor. The Falcon lands with a smooth run, turning the momentum into a punch that pushes the Kaiju back. It gives the Russian soldier enough time to recover. 

“How are your canons, Falcon?” Bucky is looking over at their schematics. Maria Hill pulls up the specifics. 

“We’ve got three more shots. Make that two.” 

“Soldier?” 

“Like you don’t already know, Buckster,” Barton responds. “We’ve got one.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Okay, Falcon, you’re on point.” He moves to one of the screens and starts scrolling. “This Cat 5 matches one seen in New York five years ago.” He glances at Steve. 

“You want to aim inside the mouth,” Steve says. “It’s not ideal because that’s the same way it shoots. Falcon would be easier to distract, but you have more shots.” 

“All I need is one shot,” Clint answers confidently. “Sound good, Falcon?” 

“You got it.” Falcon’s wings shoot out and the Jaeger jumps to the air. “Let’s play, fish.” 

The Falcon swoops and soars, buzzing around the Cat 5 like a fly. 

“Watch out for the-” Steve winces as the Kaiju’s tail whips around and knocks the Falcon from the sky. “Tail.” 

“Falcon, status,” Bucky shouts. 

“Good,” comes a tired response. “Although we have a problem: damage sustained to our wing. Flight is impossible.” 

“Alright,” Romanov says, “time to improvise. The Soldier will distract it. Falcon, get back and get ready to shoot.” 

Steve moves next to Bucky. The Soldier moves in close, fighting the Kaiju with a series of jabs being as much of a nuisance as possible while the Falcon moves back into position. Steve crosses his arms as he watches in an attempt not to fidget nervously. 

Bucky turns to Steve and asks under his breath. “What’s wrong, Stevie?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Stevie.” 

“They’re going to be able to do it.” 

Bucky stares at him. 

“Last time, it was just me and Peg. The rest of the Commandos were preoccupied or down for the count. That was…” He can’t voice it out loud. He just gestures. “It’ll work.” 

“Well, that sounds convincing.” 

Steve winces at Barton’s voice. 

“And how about next time you step out of the room before having depressing conversations?” 

“Sorry, guys. Like I said, it’ll work.” Steve says to the ceiling. 

“Damn right it will,” Barton agrees. It’s immediately followed by a string of curses as the Soldier gets tossed around by the Kaiju. 

“Keep it together, Barton. We need to get lined up for a shot. Falcon, are you in position?” Romanov asks. 

“Roger, Romanov. Ready when you are.” 

Steve watches as the Soldier suddenly drops, leaving the Kaiju with it’s mouth wide open. If the Falcon misses, they’ll get blasted and the wall will take a hit. The first shot startles the Kaiju and it chokes. The second one pushes it back further, and the third sends it toppling down. It flails in the water, creating wave after wave. 

“Hate to say this, Cap, but it looks like this Kaiju is a bit tougher than the last one you faced,” Barton comments. The Soldier is up again, waiting to see if the three shots killed it. 

The Falcon nears. 

“Falcon, fall back, you’re out of ammo and you haven’t had enough time to recharge,” Bucky warns. 

Steve sees it as if in slow motion. The Kaiju is dying, but it’s slow. It’s still fighting, striking out to cause as much damage as possible. The tail, a dangerous whip, arcs towards the Falcon. Romanov curses this time and the Soldier’s final shot hits the Kaiju right at center mass, but the shot comes too late. 

“RILEY!” 

Steve feels his world fall away as he watches the Jaeger fall to pieces. The Soldier is already on the move, gathering the broken Jaeger together. 

“Please tell me that thing is dead,” Barton’s voice is cool now, all comic relief gone. 

“Kill confirmed.” Bucky is over at the Falcon’s station. “Sam, status. You’re out of Drift, Sam. Talk to me. SAM!” 

“Here.” His voice is a croak. “I’m here.” 

“Report,” Bucky says, voice quiet. 

“I’m cut off. I can’t reach Riley. Damage to the cockpit is too great. He’s out of Drift.” 

Steve glances around the room, breathing hard. He’s back in New York, fighting with half a Jaeger and Peggy hanging loosely in her harness beside him. There’s cool air rushing into the exposed cockpit of the Jaeger as he tries to finish the Kaiju. His last memory was of reaching for Peggy before he blacked out. 

“You alright there, Captain?” 

He blinks and comes face to face with Phil Coulson. The techs are gone. He can see medical in the hangar. Bucky is out there with them. All three of the Russian Soldier’s pilots are gathered around the Falcon. 

“Yeah,” Steve chokes out. “Just...bad memories. How is Riley?” 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Riley was KIA.” 

“Rhodes?” 

“Colonel Rhodes is in medical. Early assessment is paralyzed from the legs down.” 

Steve closes his eyes. “Damn.” 

“Indeed. Stark is with Rhodes. Mr. Wilson is going to medical. Services will be held for Riley at 2100 tonight” 

This is exactly why he didn’t want to come back. Steve stares out into the hangar and meet’s Bucky’s eyes over the rest of the movement. Riley is being carried away on a stretcher. A path is cleared, military personnel saluting him. Wilson staggers behind, supported by Romanov. 

Fury nods to him and then follows the procession to Medical. Bucky and Barton clap each other on the back and then go their separate ways. Bucky aims straight for him. He stops a couple feet away and stares at Steve for a moment before he sighs. 

“What do you say we have that talk over a drink?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I haven't written a fight sequence in...a loooooong time, so I really hope it worked and made sense. All mistakes are mine. Let me know what you thought!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile and this is unedited, but I hope you like it.

**Chapter 4**

There’s no real liquor on base. Or there’s not supposed to be at any rate. Bucky knows of at least two stockpiles for the general soldiers. Neither has quality beer though. It tastes like piss even if Russia hadn’t changed his taste in liquor. 

He tries to shake off Steve’s gaze on his back, but he can’t as they swing through the corridors into the bunks. Steve staggers behind him and stops at the door that clearly indicates the female wing. 

“Buck-” 

He rolls his eyes and moves down the corridor. Steve follows after a long moment. Bucky ducks into the small room Darcy splits with Jane and Natasha. Here he pauses and glances at Steve. Back when he knew Steve, he was a skinny lightweight who got tipsy after a single beer, not this monster. 

“What’s your poison?” 

Steve shrugs. “Whatever you’ve got.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and reaches back into the hidden cubby Tasha uses for her vodka. Then he moves to Darcy’s bed and reaches behind it for the bottle of tequila she keeps there for her bad days. He frowns when he feels two bottles in the crevice. 

Behind him, he hears the squeak of the metal door hinges. Natalia somehow can open the door without a sound. Jane is going to be immersed in science for hours yet, which narrows the newcomer to one person. 

“Um, this isn’t what it looks like,” Steve offers, sounding guilty. 

Darcy snorts. “So Bucky isn’t here to raid our liquor cabinet?” 

He turns to sit on her bed, holding the two bottles: one tequila and the other vodka. “You’ve been holding out on me, Doll.”

She raises an eyebrow at him and then glances at Steve and back. “Really, Barnes?” She grabs the tequila from him and drinks straight from the bottle. The bed bounces as she hops up to sit next to him and stare at Steve. She tilts her head, contemplating. He waits for it, for the condemnation, the questions, but instead she just says, “You’ll want to put Tasha’s stash back.” 

Steve looks down at the bottle in his hand and then over at Natasha’s bed, clearly at a loss for what to do. Darcy snorts and points. “There’s a cubby above her pillow, in the corner. No idea how she found it.” 

She takes another swig while Steve returns the bottle and glances back at Bucky. 

“Well, I’ll just leave the Brooklyn Boys to talk.” 

So she’s figured it out. Bucky’s hand snaps out and he captures her hand. “Hey.” Then his words catch in his throat. He doesn’t know how to explain any of it in a way that makes sense. It’s all so jumbled in his head and he can’t even keep straight what she knows and what she doesn’t. 

Darcy just smiles sadly at him and leans in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Then she looks devilishly over at Steve. “Honestly, I’d climb the Captain like a tree too.” 

God, he loves her. As Steve sputters in the background, he reels Darcy back in and lays a real kiss on her. It’s filthy and full of heat in a way the prior kiss wasn’t. It’s tongue and teeth and not the kind of kiss you engage in with someone else in the room. He doesn’t pull her all the way back on to the bed, even though he really wants to, because he and Steve really do have to talk, but his flesh hand threads through her curls and his metal one strokes the side of her neck. 

He pulls away, breath harsh. Darcy licks her lips and his eyes drop back down to her swollen, red lips. It would be so easy to kiss her again. 

Steve coughs. “I didn’t realize…” 

Bucky closes his eyes at Steve’s voice. “Stevie and I just need to talk, sweetheart. Rhodey and Riley…” 

“I heard,” Darcy murmurs. “Bruce and Tony are already working on getting Rhodey to walk again, and Sam’s gonna need you. I’ll make sure you have privacy” She give him a back before she leaves, squeezing his hands gently. She also gives him a thumbs up behind Steve’s back and he fights a smile. 

Steve stares at the closed door for a moment and Bucky uses the stolen time to stare at his former best friend, the man who knew him before the Russians got into his head. He’s spent years wishing he could go back to that simpler version of himself. Darcy helps him feel light-hearted again. He’s not the same person he used to be. He wonders if Steve will be disappointed. 

“Your girl’s quite a firecracker,” Steve finally says, breaking the silence. “I see why you like her.” 

Darcy is his bright spot in this crazy life. He smiles softly and then takes a breath. They need to talk, so it’s time to rip off the bandaid. “I looked for you. Ten years ago. I was apparently a John Doe in some hospital in a coma and they took my arm.” He pauses to look at the metal arm to prepare himself. 

“How long?” Steve asks, taking a drag from the bottle of tequila. 

Bucky sips the vodka, savoring the burn. “Six months? Eight? I woke up to no arm and posters of you and that eyesore of a Jaeger plastered on every flat surface. I tried to get to you, Stevie, I swear. I signed up for every damn program possible. They wouldn’t take a soldier short an arm, so I tried the engineering route. I was in DC when the Captain America went down. Tried like hell to get to you.” 

The memory summons a bitter laugh. “I convinced myself you needed me after all that, that I was the one who would keep you fighting. You and me, the boys from Brooklyn. Even used Jaeger tech to build myself a new arm. ‘Course, the program didn’t see it that way.” The irony of all his 4Fs after Steve had the same trouble years before was not lost on Bucky. 

Steve nods slowly and lowers himself gingerly to the edge of Darcy’s bed. 

In his mind, he thinks the words should come easier, but they roll around in his brain and then his mouth before Bucky can actually voice them aloud. And Steve, the patient bastard, just waits him out. 

“That’s when I met Zola.” Even now when he knows the man is a distant memory, it still hurts to speak his name. “Head of the Russian Engineering program. He offered to help with the arm, get me into a Jaeger program and I thought…” 

It doesn’t matter what he thought. It was wrong.  _ He _ was wrong and it had cost him everything. 

“I don’t know what you know about the Russian program, but it was all seven circles of hell and more. Their solution to Drift compatibility was to make soldiers who could Drift with anyone.” He can feel the phantom pain of their drastic measures in his temples as he sits here. He takes a stronger drag of vodka. “Natalia and I made sure the program died with us, and got back here. By then I knew you were long gone, and I figured that if Steve Rogers had stopped fighting, he was probably dead.” 

He glances sideways. “When I heard you weren’t...What happened, Stevie?” 

Steve drains the bottle, much to Bucky’s shock. His Steve was a lightweight. Then again, his Steve didn’t have those muscles. 

“I lost my two best friends in two years. Brooklyn happened and no one could find you. I checked every standing hospital, morgue, death lists. So I volunteered. Figured I could throw myself at the problem. Instead of the Army, I got funnelled into the first Jaeger division. This was back when they were looking for single pilots, before they knew the strain was too great. They had this...serum.” He gestures vaguely. “Didn’t work the way they wanted, but it did...all this.” He indicates his body. 

“So you went to war,” Bucky says bitterly. He’s drinking the vodka faster than he should be. 

“Peggy and I matched almost immediately. They didn’t want her in the program, but our compatibility...You would have liked her, Buck.” 

He snorts as he lowers the bottle from his lips. “She your girl, Rogers?” 

Steve jerks at the words and narrows his eyes at Bucky. “It wasn’t like that. I was grieving you and she shared my head.” 

Oh, right. Bucky lowers his bottle. He was dead, as far as Steve knew. After years and years of Steve and Bucky, Steve was all alone. It’s not like he can be bitter if Steve found comfort in someone else. That would make him a hypocrite.

“Peg was great, but she knew what I lost. She shared my head. You know what that’s like.” Steve takes to the tequila with a particularly vicious pull. “We slept together once. The night before our final battle.” 

Steve’s words run out then and Bucky feels like an ass. 

“I was partners with this asshole in Russian, Brock Rumlow. He was another American turned down for the US program. Our final run, he was ripped from the Jaeger. She was the Winter Soldier then, not the Russian Soldier. I piloted her solo for something like twenty minutes. Fucked up my head. Technically I shouldn’t be going out now, but Fury hasn’t got enough pilots to bench me.” 

Steve takes a sharp breath. “Losing you and Peg so close together broke me. They wanted me to find another partner, but no one was compatible. No fit with my shattered pieces. They discharged me and I tried to do my best to help people without fighting.” 

Bucky pauses mid-motion. “What?” 

Steve huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “I kept thinking of you telling me to stop fighting losing battles. Turns out you were out there fighting the same battle.” 

Bucky closes his eyes. They really are a pair of idiots. 

“I watched the footage, you know.” 

He glances sideways. 

“Of your solo pilot,” Steve elaborates. “Kind of makes me want to raze the Russian program to the ground.” 

Bucky scowls. “No need. Natalia and I did that before we left.” They took all the dehumanizing programming and turned it against their handlers. “She deserves a better Drift Partner than me.” 

“Buck...I’m glad you’re alive.” 

Bucky puts the bottle down and stares at the industrial clean floor, unable to look at Steve. “I’m with you, punk, you know that. Til the end of the line.” The words are rusty, familiar in composition, but creaky with disuse. 

He looks up at Steve’s croaky laugh. “Jerk.” 

Without saying who moves first, Bucky’s holding Steve in his arms, crushed in his embrace. Hot tears leak out his eyes. Steve might be bigger, but there’s something so innately  _ Steve _ in the simple hug. There’s less bony elbows and ribs. The energy is the same. 

Bucky closes his eyes and finally feels like he’s home. 

… 

The discomfort from laying on Bucky’s girlfriend’s bed has disappeared at the same rate as the alcohol disappears from his bottle. Steve finds comfort in the familiarity of the bunk and of being pressed up against Bucky’s side. They share stories of old Brooklyn, of Bucky’s sister (now living in the midwest with her three kids), of the intervening years. 

By silent agreement, they stay away from more morose topics, just enjoying the company. There’s laughter, inside jokes. Steve missed this. The drink makes him bolder. 

“Can I see it?” 

Bucky blinks, eyes fogged from alcohol before his expression morphs into a leer. “Rogers, are you propositioning me? Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” 

Steve flushes. His body is more than happy to latch onto that picture, but his brain is suddenly stuck on the fact that this is Bucky’s  _ girlfriend’s _ bed. He clears his throat. “I meant your arm.” 

Bucky chuckles. “You should see your face, punk.” He reaches behind and yanks off his shirt. 

He’d be lying if Steve said he wasn’t distracted for a moment by the lightly tanned skin suddenly on display. Bucky had always been one of Steve’s favorite art subjects. He spent hours devoted to those chiseled muscles. In the last ten years though, Bucky has filled out, grown into his body. His body is a art itself. 

If there wasn’t a girlfriend…

Steve banishes that thought before it can fully form and turns his attention forcibly to the gleaming arm. It’s polished to shine and obviously well-cared for. The skin of his shoulder is twisted and scarred instead of smooth as the rest of his skin. Upon closer inspection, he can see the multitude of new scars, the story of the last ten years written into Bucky’s skin. 

“You can touch it, if you want,” Bucky offers, holding out his arm and waiting. 

He probably shouldn’t, the last rational piece of his brain whispers, but Steve doesn’t pay it any mind as he hand reaches for the cool metal. It’s not quite cool to the touch, but it’s different. He turns the hand over, runs his own up the metal that mimics the muscle of his other arm. It’s not as heavy as he would have thought. Steve vaguely wonders what Bucky can do with it. 

“Does it hurt?” 

Bucky shrugs and moves the metal fingers. “The original. It weighed almost as much as I did and grafted with my own nerves. Kept throwing off my balance.” He holds it in front of his face and frowns at it. “It had to be durable. Most of my shoulder is still metal. 

“Then we got a hold of a kaiju.” His hands curl into a fist. “It’s kind of like drifting. The nerves have been grafted together. It gives me full control.” He threads his fingers through Steve’s staring at the contrast. Steve’s too caught up in the look of awe on Bucky’s face to object. “I can feel everything.” 

“That’s amazing,” Steve whispers in the same awestruck tone. 

“It’s all Stark,” Bucky says, his tone hard again as he drops Steve’s hand and reaches for his shirt. “Natalia and I destroyed the original before leaving Russia.” 

“Did you say you built it?” Steve’s heart breaks a little as Bucky’s hand curls into a gist. 

Bucky scowls. “It was tainted.” 

Knowing a touchy subject when he hears it, Steve backs off. He doesn’t need all the Russia details. Not right now. He doesn’t know how to burst tension so he takes another sip of the tequila, grimacing at the burn. He stares at the worn label on the bottle. 

“How does anyone drink this?” He wonders out loud. 

Bucky snorts. “Darcy and Jane love the stuff. Here.” 

Steve takes the vodka and raises a questioning eyebrow at Bucky. He shrugs. Steve, as per usual bites off more than he can chew when he takes a long drag from the bottle. He holds in the desire to open his mouth to contrast the burn of his throat and attempts a more manly cough. 

Bucky’s howling laughter assures him that he didn’t really succeed. Steve shoves the bottle back at Bucky along with the tequila bottle. He’s never been one for drink. When it comes down to it, he’d rather have a cold beer. It’s not like he’s drinking to get drunk. 

From this bunk, in this base that looks like every other base Steve’s ever been stationed in, he can almost pretend that ten years haven’t passed since he last saw his best friend. He can almost imagine that the intervening years were just a dream, that Bucky is still the same, that  _ he _ is still the same. 

Almost. 

He looks down at his watch, a gift from Peggy back before she lost everything, and then back at Bucky. The change from jovial back to morose was instantaneous and now it looks like Bucky’s drifting off to sleep with the bottle still clutched in his hand. Steve takes it from him and places it on a nearby shelf. 

“Alright, Buck, time to get to your quarters, jerk.” Bucky shoves him away and settles further into the bed. 

“Nah, punk. I’mma stay here.” The words, mumbled and incomprehensible, smothered by the pillow. 

Steve tries to shift him again. Physically, he can, but Bucky has succumbed to the alcohol and sleep. It’s not like Steve has any idea where to take him. The gesture, while he’s sure it would be appreciated, would be futile. He’s not even sure he could find his own bunk again on his own. 

The best plan of action appears to be to find Darcy Lewis. She’d know where to move Bucky and could probably point him to his own bunk. Steve glances at Bucky’s slumbering form. That’s one thing that never changed: Bucky was impossible to wake once he passed out. 

Steve backtracks from the room. The halls are empty, lights dimmed in an imitation of night. It strikes him as odd that he doesn’t find anyone else around. Must be later than he thought. He finds the labs easily enough through a combination of good memory and the familiar layout of the base. 

The lights are dimmed in the lab too, but music stiff wafts softly from the back corner of the room. Tony Stark is collapsed on a table with a blanket draped over his sleeping form. His cheek presses into the scattered bolts and gears on his work table and his open mouth drools on his schematics. Doctor Banner appears to have made it to a couch at least. 

Steve bites back the guilt that he’s kept Darcy from her own bunk. He finds her wearing glasses, hair a mess, fighting to drink from a mug through a yawn. Her boss is asleep on her own cot in the corner. 

He coughs lightly to draw her attention without waking the other scientists. 

She blinks in surprise. “Captain. I thought you were otherwise occupied.” 

He doesn’t know how much she knows about his relationship with Bucky years ago, but from her hints earlier, he’s pretty sure she knows or has at least guessed. Maybe that’s why he feels awkward around her. Or maybe it’s less to do with that and more to do with that he finds her attractive and he never really learned to talk to beautiful women. Or he’s guilty because he still wants to kiss Bucky. 

“Oh, um, well, Miss Lewis. We were talking and Buck...he fell asleep and I didn’t know where his bunk was-” 

She raises an eyebrow and Steve trails off. 

He swallows. “Look, Miss Lewis, Bucky and I-” The words are lost again. How does he explain everything that he and Bucky are without belittling it, without lying, without alienating or hurting her? 

“Bucky doesn’t talk about his past a lot,” she says, taking mercy on him. She puts her mug down and starts fiddling with the long sleeves of her sweater. “It’s hard for him and after that drift...I think it gets jumbled sometimes. He’s talked about you, you know.” 

Steve doesn’t know what to say as she starts to fiddle with the screen in front of her. It flashes through footage of the fight today and the parallel to the Captain America’s final fight. Steve’s surprised that he’s not the only one who thought it looked familiar. 

“I caught him watching the archives a couple of times. Put it together.” She pauses on a clip of Steve walking into the Captain with Peggy and catches them mid-laugh. “I’ve always shared him with a ghost. Turns out you’re not dead.” She shrugs non-chalantly and minimizes the video. 

“How are you so calm about this?” Steve’s freaking out internally and he can’t imagine he would be doing any better in her position. 

She laughs, high pitched and off kilter. “Because in terms of the big picture, this is nothing. The world is so fucked up so what do we even matter?” 

He frowns and she deflates. The shift from manic to somber gives him whiplash. 

“I’m the perky intern,” she says with a sad smile. Her eyes meet his and Steve’s breath catches at the depth of sorrow in them. “I’m sarcastic and witty. I keep the nerd patrol from working themselves to death. My priority is the team. Bucky and I had fun, but I was just a placeholder.” 

“You can’t believe that,” Steve says quietly. 

She stares helplessly at him through the holographic images and shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

“You’ve obviously never seen how just the thought of you makes him smile-” 

“It’s the perky intern he likes,” she insists as she stabs the power button. “It’s a mask. The same as he is with me.” She starts to collect stacks of notes. “Go back to my bunk, Captain. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.” 

“He’s my best friend. Before anything else, before whatever you think, Miss Lewis.” He has to say it before she shuts that door completely. She pauses for just a moment and Steve takes it and continues. “And I’d like to meet the woman behind the mask. Anytime you want to talk...I’m here.” 

…

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first Chapter! This is my first time in this fandom, so I hope I did it justice. Ships subject to change as the story develops. I'm not sure where it's going at the moment. This is not beta'd. (If you're interested, lmk.)
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and THANKS FOR READING!


End file.
